


Medium Iced Mocha Haze

by CreativeOddness



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, This I Believe, Written for a Class, some homophobia references but nothing happens to anyone in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 03:45:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17821241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CreativeOddness/pseuds/CreativeOddness
Summary: My “This I Believe” essay from English, inspired by the NPR campaign.“I believe that everyone deserves one place where they can set their burdens at the door and be comfortable with themselves and the space around them.”





	Medium Iced Mocha Haze

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for an English class where my teacher wanted us to do one of those “This I Believe” essays from NPR. This is my take. More specific info about the homophobia references are in the end notes. If that’s in any way triggering to you, please be aware of this.

 

 

> When I step into certain places, it’s almost like I’ve entered another world. Like everything has shifted sideways, and I can suddenly breathe. Instead of having to worry about my every step, every word, every move, I can focus my hands on the wrinkled feeling of broken book spines or the scent of coffee beans or the way light spills, warm, onto my back. Places like this are so important to me, and they are why I believe that everyone deserves one place where they can set their burdens at the door and be comfortable with themselves and the space around them.

In the south, people extol the virtue of southern hospitality, of perfect manners. I sometimes wonder if we really practice what we preach. Somehow, it’s hard to see the people I go to school with accepting me for who I am. I live in the Bible Belt, in one of the most conservative parts of the good ol’ U.S. of A. While I’m not gay, I’m on the spectrum and it’s hard living in a place where even someone just _thinking_ you are could get you killed.

Sometimes, I like to think about the people who worked the counter of one of our local coffee stores the summer I was entering 9th grade. The person who wore short-shorts and a head wrap. Who was so beautiful they made me blush. I had no clue if they were a girl or a boy or something else entirely. Honestly, I was so flustered I didn’t care. Or, the girl with the tattoo sleeves all the way up her arms and the pierced nose that made me want to throw all caution to the wind and have something done to my skin. Something permanent, just for me. And The Guy. He was in there maybe twice; he talked to me the first time I came in.

***

The music in the background was easier to focus on than my twitching hands. I knew what I wanted but it was still hard to ask. _Medium_ _Iced_ _Mocha_ _Haze_ , _Medium_ _Iced_ _Mocha_ _Haze_ , I recited to myself. I was terrified of screwing up, I had no clue how I was supposed to order. What ifs piled up in my brain and I wanted to backpedal, wanted to explain ( _lie_ ) to Eliza that I was sorry, but my mom had called and I had to go. Too late. I was already at the front of the line. The woman who took my order somehow heard my low voice over the din of the rest of the shop.

“One Mocha Haze, Medium, Iced,” she repeated back to me. I nodded my head yes, didn’t look her in the eye, and shoved my change deep into my purse. As she turned around to pump a squirt of something into the cup, the next song on the playlist cued up and I moved to the side. The Guy was standing beside her, and he fist pumped when the music started. This time it was one I knew, and I sang softly along to Lady Gaga’s Pokerface, trying to focus on something that wasn’t my racing heart. His eyes darted to me and I stopped singing.

“That was you?” he asked, his cheerfulness scaring me a bit.

“Yes?” I answered, hesitantly.

“Cool,” he said. “Lady G for the win, right?”

I nodded, and he smiled at me. “You’ve got a nice voice, don’t be afraid to use it more often, ‘kay?”

I nodded again, and he raised an eyebrow. “Alright,” I said. Then smiled.

***

I don’t know why, but I’m more comfortable there. With the place and with myself. I don’t have to tell people anything about myself if I don’t want to. There’s no one forcing their expectations down my throat. It’s a place I can simply be regardless of what people might be thinking, one of the few places in my life untainted by the rest of the world peeking in. This place is why I believe that everyone deserves one place in their life where they can relax and put their guard down without having to worry about the weight on their shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> I live in the Deep South so there’s some talk about how being LGBTQ+ could get you killed in my town, but that’s it.


End file.
